Trailer Trash

The ranch has been in the family for about ten years now.  So it has been ten years since we set up our base of operations: a mobile home.  A very nice mobile home (Seriously!  It looks just like a house on the inside with drywall and everything!), but a trailer none the less.  Well, the ranch is in west Texas - the land of no trees.  There are wind farms down the road from us.  In a word: windy.  Very windy.

All that wind has started taking its toll.  We have lost a shingle or two.  The time has come for a little maintenance.  My father-in-law was planning a trip to the home improvement store to pick up some replacement shingles.

Now, my FIL is an eminent physician.  A pioneer is his field.  Before he left for the store, he turned to us and asked without a hint of irony, "Do you think we should put some tires up there to hold the shingles down?"

I just about died laughing and then realized he wasn't joking.

Transition to redneck complete.

Ain't That the Truth

Shampoo Warning

I don't know why I didn't figure this out sooner!  The shampoo I use is making me fat!  When I wash my hair, the shampoo runs down my whole body, and (duh!) printed very clearly on the shampoo label is this warning:
 
"FOR EXTRA VOLUME AND BODY."
 
No wonder I have been gaining weight! 

Well!  I have gotten rid of that shampoo and I am going to start using Dawn dish soap instead.   Its label reads, 

"DISSOLVES FAT THAT IS OTHERWISE DIFFICULT TO REMOVE."
 
Problem solved!  If I don't answer the phone . . . I'll be in the shower.

Mommy Haiku

I stumbled upon a fun little challenge over at Two Peas in a Pie and just had to play along.  She invited us to pen a little ode to motherhood in 5-7-5.  And I loves me some haiku!  Here goes:

Scream, yell, pinch and poke.

Mine! No mine! Leave it alone!

Crappy McPlastic.

A tiny tyrant

and an empress in training

search for minions.

Funny little guy

Pretty girl so very smart

Can't believe they're mine.

Happy Turkey Day!

This video makes me sad for the turkey, but it made me laugh anyway.  I hope you have lots to be thankful for this year!

Neighbor Kid Redeemed

Z and Q were playing out front while I was messing around in the garden.  I was raking leaves out from under our bushes (about time - they were last year's!) in preparation for cedar mulch and the installation of a micro-sprinkler system (more on that in another post.  It is SO freakin' cool!)  Z sees NK and asks if she can invite him to play.  In the front yard, sans dogs, natch.  I said sure and went back to my obsessive raking.

I finished raking and watched NK go by on his Ripstick (a twisty skate-board-y thing) pulling Z in the wagon.

I finished pouring out the first bag of mulch and watched NK go by on his Ripstick pulling Z in the wagon.

I finished pouring out the tenth bag of mulch and watched NK go by on his Ripstick pulling Z in the wagon.

Fearing that Z had roped NK into a life of indentured servitude, I called out that maybe he didn't want to spend his entire afternoon pulling her around in her wagon.  Perhaps they could find a different way to play.

NK replied that it was okay, so I told him I didn't want him to feel pressured to cart her around.

His reply?  "No, really!  I don't feel anything!"

Okay.  Maybe he's not that bad.

And we thought we had it bad...*

Consequences of Deforestation

*Thanks (again) to Mrs. B who always sends me things that make me laugh. You rock!

Anger Management

Sometimes, when you are angry with someone, it helps to sit down,
take a moment to cool off, and think about the problem.

Think this would work with Z?

Z in Cat Form

Proof of reincarnation! In her former life, Z was a cat!

Merry Catmas!

Nothing says merry Christmas like a bunch of ticked off cats! Enjoy!

Ho freaking ho. This is why I barf in your shoes.

I posted this one last year, but it still makes me laugh out loud.
I hope your holiday was filled with lots of laughter - and no cat barf!

VERY Scary

My dad sent this image to me. It is not for the faint of heart, so if you scare easily, DON'T SCROLL DOWN!











No, really. Quite disturbing.














Okay, you asked for it!

Happy Halloween!

My Life According to R.E.M.

My friend from way back in elementary school tagged me for this on Facebook. I thought I'd give it a shot... with lots of help from Google. Who knew R.E.M. was so prolific? I found multiple answers for almost every question!


Using only SONG names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. You can’t use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It’s a lot harder than you think! Repost as “my life according to (band name)”

Pick your Artist:
R.E.M.

Are you a male or female?
Just a Girl

Describe yourself
Perfect Circle (I need to get to WW!), Pale Blue Eyes, Femme Fatale (ha!)

How do you feel?
Shiny Happy People (or possibly Crazy, if you listen to my shrink!)

Describe where you currently live
Near Wild Heaven (followed closely by West of the Fields)

If you could go anywhere where would you go?
I Remember California

Your favorite form of transportation
Airportman (but High Speed Train and Catapult would have been good answers, too)

Your best friend is
Half a World Away, Laughing, and possibly Oddfellows Local 151 (just kidding, Chica!)

What’s the weather like?
Burning Hell or Lightnin' Hopkins, very little in between

Favorite time of day
I Don't Sleep, I Dream, Nightswimming, Gardening at Night (are you seeing a theme?)

If your life was a TV show, it would be called?
Welcome to the Occupation, The Worst Joke Ever, Final Straw

What is life to you?
Bittersweet Me, Dangerous Times (4-year-old on a rampage anyone?)

Your fear
Bad Day, Everybody Hurts, It's the End of the World as We Know It

What is the best advice you have to give
Begin the Begin, I Believe

My motto
Living Well's the Best Revenge, Why Not Smile

Am Classy

Well, it's official. I can check the box for 'white trash' on application forms. We now have a beach towel and a comforter hanging up for curtains in the master bedroom. The only way it would be worse would be if it was one of those cheapo fleece blankets with the picture of a wolf/tiger/bear on it that you buy on the side of the highway. Nice.

As soon as I hung them up (to make the room dark for the hubs who goes to sleep before the two-year-old), I had the uncontrollable urge to go to Wal-Mart wearing a tank top with my bra straps hanging out, pajama pants and fuzzy slippers. On the way home, maybe I'll swing by the tattoo parlor and get a tramp stamp. T said he was feeling the need to put on a grease-stained undershirt with some bib overalls - with only one strap hooked and the side buttons open, of course - and scratch his man parts a lot. Is that hot or what?

I have to remind myself that this is only temporary. I won't be living in college-apartment-flashback-hell forever. My gorgeous curtains will migrate west just as soon as the old house sells. The funny thing is that the only things I am really missing are those curtains and my french-door-freezer-on-bottom refrigerator. It is making me a little nuts that I don't have anyplace to put things away (as dressers/shelves/built-ins) haven't made/won't be making the trip to Wester. Oh, and a real bed big enough to share with T. Right now we are on a twin mattress (him) and a double air mattress (me), which isn't exactly conducive to a pre-snooze snuggle.

So for the time being, I will embrace my new social status. Maybe I will move my washing machine out onto the front porch and stack my recycling on it. And drag a rump-sprung couch with split cushions out there, too. Ooh, ooh! And I'll make a planter out of a broken toilet on the front lawn! Right next to the bondo-colored car up on blocks! Hey, this could be fun!*


*All white trash references are JOKES. If you go to Wal-Mart in your pajamas and do your laundry on the porch, more power to you!

New Survivor Series

I have seen this before, but the longer I do this mom gig, the more true I think it is. Thanks Mrs. B for passing it along!


THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES

Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes.

There is no fast food.

Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, and complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of 'pretend' bills with not enough money.

In addition, each man will have to budget in money for groceries each week. “

Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time--no emailing.

Each man must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment.

He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Urgent Care.

He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function.

Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times.

The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.

The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn himself with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished and eyebrows groomed.

During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, back aches, and have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.

They will need to read a book to the kids each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:00 am.

A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name. Also, the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth,
and length of labor, each child's favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up.

The kids vote them off the island based on performance.
The last man wins only if...
he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment's notice.

If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years eventually earning the right to be called Mother!

Lifesavers

Here is a little funny courtesy of Chica:

A teacher was doing a study testing the sense of taste.  The children began to identify the flavors by their color: 

Red.....................Cherry 
Yellow................Lemon 
Green..................Lime 
Orange...............Orange 
 
Finally the teacher gave them all HONEY lifesavers. None Of the children could identify the taste. 
 
The teacher said, 'I will give you all a clue. It's what your Mother may sometimes call your father.' 
 
One little girl looked up in horror, spit her lifesaver out and Yelled, 'Oh my God! They're butt-holes! 

The teacher had to leave the room!

Lizard Lady

The sun is thinking about peeking through the clouds this morning. When it does come out, I may feel compelled to flop myself out on my (green algae covered) deck to soak up some photons. Like a lizard. But without that tongue thing.

The Drowsy House*

There is a house,

a drowsy house,

where everyone is sleeping.

And in that house,

there is a bed,

a comfy bed,

in a drowsy house,
where everyone is sleeping.

And on that bed,

there is a blanket,

a cuddly blanket,

on a comfy bed,
in a drowsy house,

where everyone is sleeping.

And under that blanket,

there is a mama,

an exhausted mama,

under a cuddly blanket,
on a comfy bed,in a drowsy house,
where everyone is sleeping.

And near that mama,

there is a Q,

a snoozy Q,

near an exhausted mama,
under a cuddly blanket,

on a comfy bed,

in a drowsy house,

where everyone is sleeping.

And by that Q,

there is a Z...

Can it be? A wakeful Z

by a snoozy Q,
near an exhausted mama,

under a cuddly blanket,
on a comfy bed,
in a drowsy house,
where everyone is sleeping.

A wakeful Z

who pokes the Q,

who startles the mama,

who tangles the blankets

and stumbles from bed

in the drowsy house

where NO ONE now

is sleeping.

When Z is awake, we are all awake. Regardless of sickness or time of day or night. She must have an audience. Always.

*Adapted from The Napping House by Audry Wood

Yearly Exam (Don't panic! It's a funny!)*

Went to the doctor for my yearly physical. The nurse starts with the usual basics.

"How much do you weigh?" she asks.

"135," I say. The nurse puts me on the scale. It turns out my weight is 180.

The nurse asks, "Your height?"

"5 foot 4," I say. The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5'2'.

She then takes my blood pressure and tells me it is very high.

"Of course it's high!" I scream. "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!"

*Yet another post courtesy of Mrs. B. What would I do without her?

Bring on the Zombie Chickens!

Oh, my wee neck is no longer able to hold up mah great. giant. head. Two, count them, two lovely blogging peeps (get it? Peeps? Zombie chickens? A joke just for me, then.) awarded me with the Zombie Chicken Award! My main gal, Jamie, from Kids... Me & RAW III, gave it to me first in a cosmic co-inky-dink of epic (epic? Okay, maybe not.) proportions - I had just seen it on another blog and coveted it mightily. You might not know this about me, but I LOVE me some silly chickens. Then the very next day, Lisa, from Pink in a House of Blue, presented me with another one. How much does that rock?

THE ZOMBIE CHICKEN AWARD

The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken - excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all...

I would face down even the zombiest of zombie chickens to read anything these ladies write:

• Extra Hot, No Water (she's not really into blog awards, but she does love all things Zombie!)
• Playing House
• Home of the Lazy Dog
• Life with Birk
• Mamma Talk

Check out their blogs! It might keep the zombie chickens at bay!

Dear Tide

Another contribution from my friend Mrs. B. I changed it a little to reflect my circumstances. Remember: this is a JOKE.


Dear Tide:

I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I've used it all of my married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best. Now that I am a full-time mom, I find it even better!

In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to belittle me about how clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck.

One thing led to another and somehow I ended up with his blood* on my new white blouse! I grabbed my bottle of Tide with bleach alternative and to my surprise and satisfaction, all of the stains came out!

In fact, the stains came out so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me that the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and said that I was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my husband.

What a relief! Being a stay-at-home-mom is hard enough** without being a murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for having a great product.

Well, gotta go, have to write to the Hefty bag people.

* No husbands were injured in the writing of this letter. As a matter of fact, I just thought it was funny and I am not one little bit mad at T. Geez! Lighten up!

** No hate mail on this, please! I realize staying home with my kids is a privilege lots of moms would love to have. But let's get real: SaHM-ing is hard.